


Cas goes to Hot Topic(al) Feat. John Constantine

by SisterOfSatan, The_Devil_Lucifer



Category: Constantine (Comic), Constantine: The Hellblazer (Comics), Supernatural
Genre: But only really in the second chapter, Co-Written, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor, Oblivious Castiel, Trenchcoats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 09:36:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterOfSatan/pseuds/SisterOfSatan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Devil_Lucifer/pseuds/The_Devil_Lucifer
Summary: "Castiel!" He called over, "We're going shopping."After a particularly nasty encounter with a burning building, Cas and Constantine decide they need new trenchcoats.Time to visit Hot Topic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The humor in this fic will mostly be focused in chapter 2, cos that's when they go to hot topic.  
> _______
> 
> Another co-write, please enjoy!

Cas whirled out of the way of the projectile fireball, his long coat trailing behind him as he ducked behind the crate. The wooden container quickly ignited under the onslaught of fire, and all too soon flames were licking as Cas' beloved trench coat.

 

His situation was dire, the roaring inferno seemed impervious to any normal counter-measure like water, and the flames only seemed to be getting bigger as they tore through the warehouse towards him. 

Just as he was preparing to bail out and leave the search for the bones of what was clearly a very angry spirit (who knew ghosts could throw fire?) he heard the familiar British drawl,

 

"Need some help there, feathers?"

 

And John Constantine in all his self-assured glory burst from God knows where, spells ready to be used and the ever present cigarette at his lips. Cas noted the fact that he too was lightly smouldering due to the ever growing fire. Not willing to stroke his ego with thanks, he quickly joined him in the centre of the warehouse (now the only flame free spot) as they prepared to fight the spirit. 

 

They worked in a practiced rhythm that spoke of years of experience in the mystic arts and slaying demons. Spells erupted from John's very hands, golden streaks weaving into sigils that attacked the flames as they flew towards to trench-coated duo, making the balls of fiery heat wink out of existence. Every time it seemed like one got too close to either of them, the other would pull another spell or heavenly defence from their magical bag of tricks, saving them just in time. 

 

It was exhausting and dangerous work (at least, for Constantine, it was. It turns out being an angel has its perks; stamina in battle was just one of those) but after what felt like hours, the Angel and the Hellraiser escaped the building relatively uninjured. 

 

Collapsing onto the dry earth a good distance away from the warehouse, John sighed. What he would do to crash at the nearest hotel right now. He shifted on the ground, trying to find a comfortable place to sit, as there was a stupid lump that kept poking his butt. In frustration, he tried to pull the rock -or whatever it was- out of the ground, but it wouldn't budge. Feeling cool metal against his fingers, he studied it more closely. It was-

 

A handle?

 

He inspected the dirt surrounding it, only to see timber under the thin layer of soil. 

 

"Huh", he breathed. It was a trap door.

 

John wasted no time in calling Cas over from where he was stood watching the building slowly collapse (seriously, what did that guy do for fun?) and together they grasped the handle and heaved, swinging the door up to see a small pit. 

 

Wait, was that a body?

 

Cas caught on before he did, "Oh, so that's why there was a spirit back there," he intoned, his gravelly voice not giving away a tone of suprise.

 

Constantine didn't know how to respond to that. How could a dead guy throw fireballs? Oh well, it's not like he dealt with this kind of thing daily, he'd leave that to Castiel. 

 

So, he stood by and watched as Cas carefully spilt salt and petroleum over the corpse and set it alight. 

 

/Why, he wondered, isn't there a spell for this?/

 

The raw stench of smoke brought him out of this thoughts, and he glanced down to see his coat, which was lightly smoking in some areas, and had completely burnt through in others, especially the bottom, which now hung to his waist due to having been singed off. 

 

"Shit."

 

Startled at his curse, Cas glanced over to see John studying his smouldering trench coat, a look of dismay flashing across his features for a moment. Looking down, Cas saw that his had not just been burnt a little- but had almost completely turned to ash, with just the arms and part of the back hanging off his shoulders. It seemed that they hadn't escaped the blaze unscathed after all.

 

Flickering his gaze back up to John's face, Cas saw that he was smirking. 

Oh no, this wouldn't be good, what would he-

 

"Hey, Feathers! " He called over. 

"We're going shopping."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Cas had no idea what was going on.  
Constantine had taken him to a store called 'hot Topical' (Tropical?) In the promise that they'd find more trenchcoats there.

He'd also mentioned something about 'Supernormal' and 'Misha Collins', yet Castiel had no idea what they were. (Some obscure spells maybe?).

In the store, Cas was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of pentagrams and warding symbols that adorned shirts, bags, and almost every type of clothing he could see. The sigils would only be useful if placed on the floor or as a tattoo, so why would people wear them? It was wholly impractical. Even so, it was nice to see that humans had finally seemed to take divine protection into their own hands. After all, there were only so many hunters out there. 

What was more surprising though, was the fact that the 'Hot Topical' seemed to sell clothing and equipment specifically designed like the stuff Cas owned. Along the back wall, several tan trenchcoats hung on rails in various sizes, and little model Impalas dangled on silver keychains on a revolving stand in the middle of the shop floor. 

Spotting some mini figures in cuboid boxes in the stand next to him, Case examined the 'Pop Vinyl' figure. It was a plastic model of a man holding a knife suspiciously similar to the demon blade the Winchester's owned- in fact the figurine itself was strikingly similar to his very own Dean. The only difference, he noticed, was that the name printed on the bottom of the box read 'Jensen Ackles'. 

Strange.

This threw Cas deep into thought about who this mysterious Jensen was. Maybe he had something to do with the 'Misha' John had mentioned earlier. 

Suddenly, a soft weight pressed against his back and he spun to see Constantine holding two trenchcoats up against Cas' back with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Which one? You know your size better than I do." He mused, comparing each one to Cas.

Figuring he should actually take this seriously, since he'd probably be wearing this coat for the next 50 years or so, he tried each one on in the mirror.

When he finally picked the perfect trenchcoat (it was almost identical to his last one- so much for spending almost half an hour picking). He turned to see Constantine standing with his hands in the pockets of his own new overcoat, looking incredibly bored.

(Poor man, he must have been waiting for Cas to finish).

"Jesus, I never thought an angel could be so self-conscious", he grumbled.

As he reached forward to yank Cas out of the store, a voice rang out from behind them.

"OMG, I love your outfits! You must be huge fans of Supernormal!"

Having no idea what she was going on about, Cas looked sideways to Constantine for help, but he just smirked and turned back to the teen.

"Yeah, were huuuuge fans."

Cas was confused. Was John playing a trick on him?

Unaware of Cas' bewilderment, the girl spoke again, hands flapping with barely concealed excitement.

"I am soooo in love with that show, but mostly Misha, like have you even seen him? Like, he is so hot I could just eat him..."

She trailed off with a dreamy look on her face.

Cas was even more confused. He was hot, his trenchcoat was still smouldering. Had this 'Misha' been pelted with fireballs, too?

Oblivious to his confusion, the teen noticed their clothing situation.

Omg are you cosplaying, or LARPING? That smoking trenchcoat look is on point, you HAVE to tell me where you got it, oh wait, did you burn it yourself?! Man that is HARCORE fanboying! 

"W-what, I-"

Ignoring Cas' stuttering She turned to Constantine.

"Wait, are you both dressed like Misha? It's a shame, you would be a great Sebastian Roche, with the accent and all."

Before, she could go any further, Constantine cut her off.

"Look lass, it's been nice meeting you, but we really have to be going now." 

That would have seemed quite rude if it hadn't been for the wink he shot her way as he said it, making her blush furiously.

As they left the over-excited fangirl behind, Cas breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't wait to crash at Constantine's place for the night. The day, with its fireballs and Hot Tropicals, had left him thoroughly exhausted. 

He thought about calling the Winchesters, maybe they'd know why some of the merchandise bore such a striking resemblance to their own stuff, but he figured that was a story for another time.

(Or another fic ;))

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudos and comment if you want more.


End file.
